The thought and the deed were equally sinful, and he would pray earnestly to God to relieve him of his wicked thoughts. Each year at the Revival at the Baptist Church, when the minister would work himself into a tremulous frenzy of salvation, when, in a voice worn to a rasping whisper, he would plead for God to touch the sinners in his congregation, Clay-Boy would sit in rigid terror, knowing that God could see into his mind, knew the ugly lust that was entwined in his brain, and he knew that he was past even God’s help, for that Healing Touch fell on all shoulders but his own. He would watch
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